


The Comedian Imagines: SFW

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [3]
Category: Watchmen (2009)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gen, Holidays, Language, Reader-Insert, Romance, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Relationships: Edward Blake/Reader
Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933015
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Imagine The Comedian wanting to beat up your boyfriend after the two of you have a fight.

Eddie leans against his own doorframe across the hall, frowning as you kick your boyfriend out yet again. You smile apologetically at him, your arms crossed over your chest a little defensively. 

“Sorry about the noise, Eddie.” 

“Noise isn't what bothers me. You know that.” 

You dip your head. “Won't be a problem anymore. We broke up.” 

Eddie snorts. “Sure. That's what you said last week. He'll be back in a few days. He'll beg, you'll let him back in, and it will only be a matter of time before he's treating you like shit all over again.” 

“Eddie...” 

“Don't Eddie me, sweetheart. You know I'm right.” He pauses, then walks over to you and lifts your chin gently with his fingers. “I've seen women die like this, sweetheart. I don't want that to happen to you.” 

Your eyes get wide and your breath hitches in your throat. You know he's just being straight with you, but it's still hard to hear it said like that. 

“Let me at him, sweetheart,” Eddie offers, not for the first time. “He won't come back and bother you when I'm through with him. I swear.” 

“Eddie, no. I don't want to hurt him.” 

“You should.” He grunts unhappily. “I can't just break his nose a little bit?” 

You can't help laughing. “No, Eddie, no.” You slide your hands gently over his arms. 

You know you deserve better. It's just been this way for so long, and you're afraid of being alone. 

You bite your lip and a tear rolls down your cheek. 

Eddie sighs, moving his arms so he can wrap them around you. “Look, sweetheart, you're not alone,” he promises. 

How did he know what you were thinking? 

“How about this instead? Come and spend the night with me. In case he comes back. I promise, by morning, you won't even want to remember him.” 

Just in case you've mistaken his meaning, he makes it clear by reaching down and squeezing your ass firmly. 

You swallow. Maybe you should try and give yourself a chance at something more. 

“Okay, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

You nod. 

“All right. Come on. My bed's calling our name.” 

He keeps one arm around you as he walks you to his apartment. When his door closes behind you, you finally relax. 

For the first time, you believe that everything really will be all right.


	2. Imagine being a rookie and getting paired up with The Comedian on your first patrol.

“So I decided against a cape, you know, because it just seemed like a bad idea. I mean, somebody could grab you by it and then you’re in big trouble, right? But I think this whole costume is too tight. I feel like it’s going to rip off if I move…” 

Eddie sighs as you continue to babble. Why did he have to get stuck with the rookie? It isn’t like he’s a great teacher; he hates showing people the ropes. 

Finally, he interrupts you. “Look, when you’re on patrol, you want to be quiet, okay? So you can actually hear if anything bad is happening?” he huffs brusquely. 

Maybe it’s his sparkling personality. 

You aren’t bothered by his comment, though. “Oh, right,” you whisper, giving him a brilliant smile. “Sorry.” 

You continue in silence. Eddie’s counting the seconds until he has to save you during a fight. 

It’s not that he thinks women can’t be heroes. He knows plenty. 

He just doesn’t think you can be one. 

When the gang jumps off the low roofs of the warehouses surrounding you in an ambush, he reaches to pull you out of the way and tell you he can take care of it. 

But you’re already gone. 

You slam one man into the wall, spinning around and punching another in the face. Then you run and slide, knocking down the remaining three, flipping back onto your feet and bringing your leg down on all of their necks at once. 

Eddie blinks in surprise and finally realizes that he was so busy being impressed by you that he forgot to fight entirely. 

He actually opens his mouth to apologize, but you start talking before he can. 

“Oh, was that a test? Good idea. That wasn’t so bad. Those guys were idiots.” You look ruefully at the long scrape on your thigh. “Definitely should have gone with full coverage. I’m redesigning for long pants.” 

“We’re done for the night,” Eddie points out, grinning. “Let’s go take care of that, sweetheart.” 

You shrug. “Okay. Is it always this uneventful?” you wonder. 

He slings his arm around your shoulders as you make your way back to headquarters. 

“Pretty much, sweetheart. Pretty much. Still, it’s better than doing it alone. We might get partnered up.” 

“I’d like that,” you admit. “As long as you help next time.”

You wink and nudge him playfully and he laughs. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.


	3. Imagine getting The Comedian some thoughtful and fun Christmas gifts and enjoying watching him try to figure out who they’re from.

You barely manage to suppress a giggle as Eddie squats in front of his desk, opening one eye wide and staring at the wrapped gift on it. You actually have to put your hand over your mouth when he slowly removes one of his guns from its holster and carefully pokes the package with the muzzle. 

This is the third present you’ve left on his desk, and each one only makes him more suspicious. He really has no idea where they’re coming from. 

Finally, he stands and opens the box, pulling out a finely calibrated scope for his favorite gun. He stares at it thoughtfully, then sits down, starting to take the weapon apart to clean it. He lights one of the cigars you left him yesterday, the shiny buffed leather of the new gun holsters you got him the day before that pulled tight against his broad shoulders and chest. 

After he finishes, he clips the scope on and squints through it. “Hot damn,” he mutters to himself. “Perfect.” 

The next day is Christmas. The office is technically closed, but you know he’ll be in, so you make sure you’re in too. When he arrives and sees a bottle of his favorite liquor with a bow wrapped around it, he frowns, chewing his lip. 

He grabs the bottle and glances around. When he spots you, he comes and leans against your desk, setting the bottle on it. “Hey, doll. You didn’t happen to see anyone leave this, did you?” 

You smile up at him, resting your chin in your hand. “What do I get if I tell you?” 

Eddie blinks slowly. He hadn’t been prepared for that type of response. “Well…” he starts, trying to think of something clever. “What do you want?” 

“For you to join me for dinner at my place tonight, if you don’t have plans,” you reply with a little more boldness than you actually feel. “Your last gift is there,” you add slyly. 

Eddie’s eyes widen as he realizes what you mean. “Shit, doll, all this stuff is from you? How’d you know what I like?” 

You laugh. “Eddie, please. Guns, cigars, booze. You’re not that hard to figure out.”

You wink at him playfully and his brow furrows. “Well, I’ll have to work on being more fucking mysterious,” he grumbles. But he puts his arm around your shoulders as he says it. “Come on, doll, give me a hint. What’s my last present?” 

You look up at him and blush. “Me.” 

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, fuck, doll, let’s get going.” 

You giggle and grin as you leave the building. It’s nice to get what you want for Christmas.


	4. Imagine being a badass vigilante and The Comedian realizing that he’s in love with you.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He doesn’t often feel backed into a corner, but twenty well-armed men between him and the end of an alley is getting him there fast. 

Then he hears a resounding crack and sees you swinging down behind the crowd. 

You take about six of them out before landing nimbly on your feet, flicking your wrist to coil the thick, dark red whip back to your side. 

You wink at Eddie and glance at the remaining villains over your shoulder. “Ready to be tamed, boys?” you purr. 

Your whip cracks and Eddie’s guns flash repeatedly as you work together to dispatch the rest of the crew. 

When you’re finished, Eddie smirks at you. “Thanks, Ringmistress,” he drawls, emphasizing your name to remind you how ridiculous he thinks it is. 

“Not a problem, Comedian,” you tease him back. “I guess the last laugh was mine this time.” 

He chuckles. “I guess it was.” Suddenly, he seems shy as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was, um, going to get some breakfast. Would you like to join me?” 

“Oh, Eddie,” you coo, tapping him underneath the chin with two fingers. “Are you sweet on me?” 

“Maybe,” he mumbles under his breath, draping his arm over your shoulders. “Change at my place? It’s close.” 

You agree. 

Once inside, though, you have no intention of leaving again. Instead, you pin Eddie to his bed and snap your whip between your hands. 

“Ready to be tamed, Eddie?” you purr. 

Several hours later, you’re sharing a cigarette in bed and Eddie has ordered in. 

“I love you,” he admits quietly.

He hadn’t thought he would love anyone after Sally, but here he is. 

You smile, slipping out of bed and wrapping the sheet around yourself so you can answer the door. 

You lean down and kiss him softly. “I love you too, Eddie.” 

He grins, his eyes sparkling, and then frowns as he realizes where you’re going. “Don’t give that delivery boy a show!” he yells, quickly following you, grabbing his robe and pulling it on as he goes. 

You laugh gaily. Life with Eddie is definitely going to be fun.


	5. Imagine being in The Comedian’s apartment when he’s thrown out the window.

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, briefly fixing your hair. 

Eddie’s been nervous all night, and you have no idea why. You’re his handler, which means that you would know if anything were amiss. 

Then again, it’s Eddie. The man isn’t exactly stable. He needs another mission soon. Killing is the only thing that makes him even, and it doesn’t last long. 

You flinch as you hear the door being kicked in. 

“Just a matter of time, I suppose.”

Eddie’s deep voice seems resigned. Then the sounds of fighting start. 

You hit the floor, rolling out into the hallway and pulling your gun, starting to inch forward slowly so you can peek around the corner and assess the situation. 

Your mouth drops open as you see a figure dressed completely in black beating Eddie within an inch of his life. 

You’ve never seen Eddie lose a fight before, even against multiple assailants. This is just one man. How is he doing it? 

Realizing that you can think about that later, you aim and pop off a shot. 

You miss. 

You blink. 

You never miss. 

You try again. 

You miss again. 

After a third shot misses, you realize the problem. 

The man is moving too fast for your bullets to hit him. 

Eddie smashes into the coffee table, then gets thrown through the dining room table and into the bar. 

Briefly, you wonder why all his furniture is made of glass. It’s certainly not doing him any favors now. 

You swallow as you hear his wrist break. 

“It’s a joke,” he wheezes. “It’s all a joke.” He pauses. “Mother forgive me.” 

“No!”

You scream and abandon your cover, but it’s too late. Eddie crashes through the window, and there’s nothing more you can do. 

Suddenly, you’re up against the wall with your feet dangling above the floor. 

“Sadly,” Ozymandias drawls lazily, “I cannot let you live after what you’ve seen.” 

He tosses you easily through the hole made by Eddie’s deadly exit. As you plummet down to join Eddie, your last thought is that he was right. 

It really is a joke. You just didn’t know you were the punchline.


End file.
